Thoughts and Deeds
by Jasmine2009
Summary: After Tony is read-in to the Black Ops program, how does he react?
1. Chapter 1 and 2

Title: Thoughts and Deeds  
>Author: Jasmine<br>Universe: NCIS (7100 words)  
>Date: July 30, 2011<br>Subject: After Tony is read-in to the Black Ops program, how does he react?  
>Rated: PG-15 ("f—bomb once, if not for that, could easily be PG)<br>Setting: Directly after episode 8.24, Pyramid, before Season 9.

Chapter 1: Ziva

I wish the box had had a ring in it. Okay, that's probably unfair, but I do! Ray said that even though it was empty, it held a promise; a promise that there was much to discuss when he returned. But, a lot can happen between now and then. A lot. It is probably better this way. No ring, no attachment…, no heartache.

So why do I keep thinking about him? What was it that Tony had said about EJ? 'I understand this one; that's why it's working.' That's how I feel. I understand Ray. I knew the moment we met that he was different. And to think I almost threw it all away. If it hadn't been for Tony telling me what I already knew… Sometimes, my partner can be… sweet.

Look at him over there, pretending to be working, but I bet he's thinking about her. I'm not jealous of EJ, well… not _insanely_ jealous, but there'll always be a part of me that will wonder what if we had gotten together instead of them? If Gibbs didn't have all those damn rules that he expects us to follow…. If, always if! It's no use. Tony and I just wouldn't work. We are partners, nothing more. And now that EJ has left and her team disbanded, maybe things around here will get back to normal.

Well, this report isn't going to write itself. It should only take another hour to finish and then it'll be lunch time. I wonder if Abby has plans. We could walk across the street and grab a bite at the kiosk. No, that wouldn't work; not much there she can eat. Hmm, where could we go?

Chapter 2: McGee

This report is, if I do say so myself, damn near perfect. Facts are all consistent and supportable, evidence is where it should be, and there's not one piece of information that's missing. Eat your heart out, Tony. I'd like to see you nail your report on the first try.

Sometimes I really feel stupid though. How come everyone in NCIS knew about Tony and EJ but me? Tony was right too; everyone DID know. Well, it's easy enough to explain why I didn't: I had other things on my mind, specifically Abby and Cade. I know it shouldn't have bothered me, but it did. And I know Abby isn't looking for a relationship, but, damnit, if she can find time for Cade, she can certainly find a little more time for me! _Don't jump the gun, Tim!_ She was just being friendly, nothing more, she said so herself. Of course, being friendly is her specialty and more than one person has misunderstood her kindness. But I guess that's water under the bridge now that Cade's going back to Washington. I feel like that should make me feel better, but it doesn't. To further the agony, I can't let on my feelings; Tony would never let me live it down, not to mention the fact that he'd seize every opportunity to remind me that Cade was better than me in practically every way imaginable.

Look at him over there, not a care in the world. Tony'll finish up his paperwork and then most likely meet up with one of his girlfriends for lunch, maybe even get a 'nooner' as he likes to call them. Or forego lunch in favor of a nap so he can stay up late with yet another one of his conquests. What do I care; I date! Maybe not as much as he dates or to as beautiful of women, but I DO date! In fact, I'm going out this weekend with this girl I met on line… another fact I feel I should keep from him.

Uh oh, I hope nobody heard that. Since my breakfast consists mostly of fruit and wheat toast these days, my stomach usually rebels about this time every morning. I wonder what Abby's doing for lunch? I betcha she brought hers today and since I brought mine, I think I'll send her a quick message. That still leaves me with an hour to kill. What can I do in an hour? Hmmmm. Gibbs is working diligently, as are Tony and Ziva. They won't have a clue, so…, I think I'm gonna play a quick game of _Vengeance or Greed_.


	2. Chapter 3, 4 and 5

Chapter 3: Tony

_What the hell was I thinking?_ I wished to God I'd never accepted this Black Op mission. _Tony, you are such an idiot!_ But what fucking choice did I have? Like I don't know how the game is played. The new SECNAV knew I had turned down the Rota position and, what were his exact words again? Let me think…, "Get read-in, or reassigned, your choice." Some choice. Right now, I'm feeling like I should have taken my chances on the reassignment, who knows, I might have gotten San Diego—best climate in the country. But let's face it; I have a good thing going here. I know how rare it is for a team to have what we have: complimentary skills, complete trust and not too much competitiveness. We can thank Gibbs for creating this finely tuned investigative machine, and the weather in DC ain't half bad either.

But I can't stop thinking about the Black Program and the assignment I've been given. I wonder why he chose me? Of all the agents in NCIS, the new Secretary of the Navy taps me for his little project. It wasn't until I saw the picture of who he's tapped me to handle that I realized why he selected me. By the time this is all over, I know I'm gonna have wished I had taken that reassignment. Hell, Agent Afloat even sounds inviting at this point. Maybe I should just pull myself off the mission. Damnit, I'm not the right guy for this!

I can't even think right now. I'll never finish this report today, not to Gibbs' satisfaction at least. I wish McGee would finish it for me. I'd even pay him at this point. Look at him over there, smug in the knowledge that his report is probably finished and perfect, no doubt too detailed for the boss, but passable. Maybe Ziva would do it… then again, maybe not. She looks too engrossed trying to finish up her own report to do mine. Besides, unless they lose a bet, neither one of them will do anything for me. Can't say that I blame them; I'd do the same. But, there's always a first time…

_Jarvis, Director, Authorized, Black Program, 'do it without you',_― GOD, all these words keep invading my head! I can't stop thinking about them. Ah, shit! What does it matter if I don't finish this report today? I'm already looking at another shift of midnight work, not that that's a problem, but if Shepard's covert mission was any indication, I could be working a second shift for months. Sleep is overrated anyways, and I learned many years ago why Gibbs doesn't bother. The dead faces, the mangled bodies, the sociopathic killers, the lies… they never go away. So why bother trying to escape them with sleep? Won't work.

It'll be lunch soon and I'm not hungry, but try convincing my colleagues of this fact. Ziva's probably contacted Abby to inquire about lunch plans, as has McGee. Abby will soon make an appearance and want Gibbs and me to join them. They go through the same ritual every time we wrap up a case. I wonder if they even realize it. Well, today I'm not hungry, and given the way my life is going, something tells me I may never be hungry again...

Chapter 4: Gibbs

I can't see a damn thing. Cobb took my only good pair of glasses and without them, I'm as good as blind. I now must look like I'm reading their reports when, no matter how far away I hold it, it's too blurry to make out. Not that I need them to know what's going to be in each report. McGee's report will be overkill, every detail explained to the nth degree, and Ziva's will be slanted with an eye for the offense, with lots of firepower and violence. Only Tony's will be perfect, as usual. I'll have to give him the requisite hard time because he expects it, but it will be succinct and accurate, the way I like it. Yes, Tony, you're gifted that way; you seem to know what should be included and what should be left out. You're gifted in a lot of ways actually, and it's obvious I'm not the only one who sees it.

What I'd like to know is what in the hell were you doing in Vance's office with the newly appointed SECNAV? It wasn't the first time you'd met him either. I'm fully aware that you deserve your own team and have for quite a few years, but my gut's telling me that's not the reason they were talking to you. I hate being left out of the party and I thought I made that point perfectly clear on the P2P case. Evidently, I didn't. But maybe Leon doesn't have a say in what's going on. That's all together possible. From the beginning the powers-to-be have always been suspicious of him. Even I don't trust him sometimes, but I have to admit, my reasons are quite different from theirs.

Enough about Leon, back to you, Anthony DiNozzo, senior field agent… just what exactly do they have in mind for you? Team leader somewhere? Perhaps another La Grenouille op? It's funny; if it were anyone else, I'd be pissed, but not you, DiNozzo. I've taught you well. What I don't like is _not_ knowing what they want. Whatever it is, they don't want any of us to know you're doing it. And if they don't want us knowing you're doing it, I have every reason to suspect one of us is the target, and 99% of the time, the crime is selling information.

So, Tony, who are you supposed to be handling? McGee? Perhaps. He has the technical know-how, but is he capable of hiding it from us? Right now, he's playing one of his video games, thinking no one will notice. Maybe Ziva? Possibly. Whoever you've been assigned to handle, if indeed that is your op, that person would have to be someone willing to do anything to _anybody_. Ziva's not that person. Abby? Ducky? They're probably the most capable, but again, they love what they do too much to jeopardize their careers. Palmer? Vance? Now, there are two men who could be hiding something. I don't know Jimmy well enough but he seems to always be around, phishing for answers. And Leon, it just goes without saying that he'll always be under suspicion. Once everyone else has been ruled out, that just leaves me. That's even a little bit funny because although I'm capable of doing some pretty despicable acts, I'd never betray my country. But I wouldn't put it past Jarvis to sic you on me, Tony.

On the other hand, the target might simply be someone outside our team, like EJ, or some other agent from another office, say LA for example. That might help explain why you were chosen to be the handler. More likely than not, Tony, it's your affable character that makes you damn near perfect for the job, but like everything else in life, there's always a price to be paid. Remember Jeanne Benoit?

'_Hold on, Jethro, you might be jumping to conclusions here. You're not even sure Tony's been asked to be part of an undercover op.'_

Assuming you have been asked to participate in some clandestine operation, there is actually another reason why they may have selected you…it is because they SUSPECT you. I've heard rumors about Clayton Jarvis and it seems he has a reputation for being devious. What better way to keep tabs on a potentially rogue agent than to enlist his services and make him your point man? Tony, you had better watch your back. On second thought, I'll watch your back. If something were to happen to you… Ah hell, sometimes I hate how I've let you crawl into my life. From the moment we met, I felt something towards you that I haven't felt since Kelly was alive.

So what's wrong, Tony? Just by looking over at you, I can tell something's not right. You're angry and it's written all over your body. Ziva and McGee seem content, relaxed, even satisfied with the resolution of the port-to-port case. But not you. You look anxious, nervous. You're definitely not your talkative self. Any other day, you'd be cutting a deal to get someone else to complete your report, so why not now? I couldn't help but notice your goodbye to EJ the other day; it was telling, Tony. You're way more cautious than I ever was. On the other hand, being too cautious and needing too much space will drive you over the edge, or at least into your basement. Typical DiNozzo, just one more reason to keep close tabs on you.

Chapter 5: John Waters

John Waters closed his eyelids and let fate guide his finger. He didn't really care which floor he got off on, any one would do. He had a statement to make, and nothing was going to interfere with it. His only regret was that his father, the great Admiral John D. Waters, wasn't standing next to him to see his namesake's great finale. But he had his other son to make things right: the "perfect" son. The son every father wants and the brother every sibling hates. No matter how hard he tried, he could never live up to his father's expectations the way Alan could.

But that was all about to change. What he had in mind was going to take more than a smooth talking lawyer to save his family's precious reputation. Once he was done, the intelligence world would know the name Waters. He'd be famous. Of course, it would be more along the lines of infamy, but soon, it was all going to be over, and his father would get the recognition he so desperately sought. The only thing left for him to do was to choose a victim.


	3. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Lunch

"Gibbs! Gibbs! I finished my report."

"You don't usually bring it to me, Abs."

"I know, but I got a message from McGee and Ziva and we're going to lunch. I thought I'd see if you and Tony wanted to come along."

Gibbs shook his head, not bothering to offer an explanation.

"How 'bout you Tony. Wanna come with us?"

Abby furrowed her brow at his inattentiveness.

"Tony!" Ziva barked, getting his attention. "Would you like to join us for lunch?"

McGee interjected, "Tony's still trying to figure out the fastest way to complete his report without actually having to do it."

"Funny, McHumor, and no, I don't want to have lunch; I'm not hungry."

Ziva, Abby and McGee exchanged glances. Even Gibbs looked over at his senior field agent. McGee said, "You could have given any excuse in the book, Tony, and we'd have bought it, but you said the one thing that's not plausible. You actually expect us to believe that you're NOT hungry?"

"Yes," he replied, and went to say more but the appearance of an unfamiliar man walking into the bullpen stopped him. He was dressed nicely in an off the rack suit, regulation haircut and shined shoes, but something was off about him. There was something peculiar with the way he conducted himself.

Ziva watched him as well, "Excuse me, sir, can we help you?"

John Waters looked at the people before him. The petite brunette with her hair pulled back would definitely make a statement, as would the tall woman in pigtails and black knee high boots carrying a black spider bag. The geek might be a good choice with his furrowed brow and short cropped hair, or maybe even pretty-boy here, in his designer suit and expensive haircut. But the best one, the one who most closely resembled his father, would have to be the older man. Same regulation haircut and same disapproving look that he'd come to expect from his old man. So many choices; just one bullet.

Tony watched with annoyed interest, hoping he'd take Ziva up on her offer. But Gibbs, ever the functional mute, ticked his head his way. Punching the key to minimize his screen, he buried his irritation and at least attempted to look happy. Plastering on a pleasant smile, Tony stood and came from behind his desk, saying, "Sir, if I can help you, I'd be happy to escort—"

The bullet ripped through his abdomen at the same time he saw the muzzle flash. Hot searing pain, coupled with the force of the impact, sent him careening backwards into his credenza, knocking down the monitor and files before landing hard on the floor. The noise was deafening. There was more gunfire, shouting, and activity. And then it became suddenly quiet. He was afraid to look, opting instead to stare into the bright sky lights above as he tried to catch his breath.

"Tony!"

Who shouted his name? His hands were warm and sticky but he couldn't tell how much blood was on them and something told him not to look. Thank God Gibbs entered his line of vision. Finding his voice, he asked, "How bad is it?"

"I've seen worse accidents on the training field," Gibbs assured, hoping he believed the lie while applying pressure to the wound.

"I didn't see his gun, Boss. Did you see his gun?"

"Don't try to talk, Tony. McGee! Get his desk out of my way! Ziva, find me some clean shirts, and get Ducky up here!"

"Tony, you're going to feel a little pressure, okay? Tony? Do you still hear me?"

Tony blinked his eyes slowly, feeling strangely warm and content. _'I wonder if this is it? Is this how it feels when you die? So different from how I was feeling a minute ago.'_

"Stay with me, DiNozzo. Abby! Get something to prop up his legs. Tony, stay awake. Did you get your report finished?"

"My report?" Tony repeated. "Actually, Boss," his words were soft and formed between breaths, "I haven't."

"Don't worry about it, Tony," McGee said. "I'll take care of it."

Tony felt his legs being lifted onto a box and a soft pillow being slid under his head. He was definitely feeling tired, and while he'd give just about anything to be able to go to sleep, the burning pain in the pit of his belly wouldn't allow it.

"Tony, can you hear me?"

Tony found that if he stared at the bright sky light above, he could block out some of the pain. He was afraid to break his concentration and answer Ducky's question because that would mean the burning pain would return.

When there was no response, Ducky pressed his stethoscope against Tony's chest and listened. Too fast. "Keep pressure on his wound, Jethro. He's already lost a lot of blood."

"Ducky?" Tony breathed out.

"I'm right here, my boy."

"…it hurts when you press down so hard."

"I know, unfortunately, it's necessary. We're trying to keep as much of your blood on the inside." To Gibbs he said, "Don't let up, no matter what he says."

"I won't. Tony?" Gibbs asked, "Have you ever seen that man before?"

Tony lulled his head to the side, trying to make sense of the question, but it was like his brain was no longer connected to his body. "…cold. I'm so cold, Boss."

"Take it easy, Tony. The ambulance is on its way and you're five minutes from Bethesda." Gibbs took another clean white shirt that Ziva was offering, replacing the crimson soaked one. _'Geez, Tony. How much more can you afford to lose?'_

Gibbs was the last to step aside when the EMT's arrived. The transition was smooth, taking over his duties seamlessly, getting vitals, inserting an IV, and lifting him onto the gurney. "I'm going with him in the ambulance. McGee, Ziva," Gibbs did a final once over, avoiding the dead body in the bullpen, "take care of this."

"On it, Boss," McGee replied, hoping his reply could offer some comfort.

When the elevator doors closed, there was still a crowd of people on the floor but nobody seemed anxious to set about their duties. Still stunned by the events, the team took a minute to process what all had just happened. Director Vance approached Ziva, "Does anyone recognize this man?" he said, pointing to the body in the middle of the floor.

Ziva and McGee shook their heads, as did Abby and Palmer.

"Bag and tag everything. I want to know why this man felt the need to shoot one of our agents."

"Yes sir."


	4. Chapter 7 and 8

Chapter 7: Stayin' Alive

Tony stared up at the roof of the ambulance, listening to the siren. He lay there, hearing the voices of the paramedics, feeling the immense pressure on his abdomen, and the probing of gentle fingers. The pain was still there, but it was no longer a burning pain. Breathing was still difficult, but he now had an oxygen mask over his mouth. He didn't like the words he was hearing: "blood loss", "heart rate", "180", "BP dropping". He couldn't be sure, but he thought he recognized one of the voices. "Boss?" Could they even hear him through the mask?

"Tony, don't try to talk. You'll be at the hospital in a few minutes."

If he was going to die, he'd like to know why, and he'd like to know at the hands of whom. Not that he had immediate intentions of passing into the after-life, but the reality was, he was lying flat on his back with a bullet lodged deep within him and he was awake enough, and alert enough, to know what that meant. "Who was that guy?"

Gibbs clasped Tony's forearm and shoulder and leaned down, "Don't do anything—don't talk, don't move—just think about staying alive."

"…sequel…" he breathed, "…John Travolta, 1983..."

"Geez, DiNozzo, don't you listen to anything I say?"

Chapter 8: Other Agents

Abby came scurrying up to McGee's desk and asked, "How's Tony?"

"We haven't heard anything."

"Why not? It's been hours."

"It was one hour ago, and we're still processing the crime scene."

Abby did not like his answer and turned to Ziva, but the janitorial staff was between her and the Mossad officer pre-treating the carpet. She watched them work. There hadn't been much blood from Tony, but the gunmen practically bled out, having been shot three times with, no doubt, each shot being a kill-shot. "Do we know who he was?"

Ziva stepped carefully around the cleaners and towards the plasma screen. Clicking the remote, she displayed a photo of the gunman, "Yes, John Waters, Jr., 30, son of Admiral John D. Waters from Annapolis, Maryland. The address on his driver's license has him living at home with his parents. We've sent agents to pick them up. John Waters, Jr. has no record of employment and is not a student anywhere."

"How'd he even get in here?" Director Vance asked, coming from out of nowhere.

"The uniform must be an old one from his father's collection. The ID is current," she answered.

"What'd his day look like?"

Tim stood up and joined them, "I pulled his credit cards and there was nothing unusual about today. I'm reviewing his last month's worth of purchases to see if there's anything, but so far it's the usual: gas, food and entertainment."

Abby was antsy listening to what she considered mundane data. "Director?" she interrupted. "Have you heard anything?"

"No, nothing, Ms. Scuito. I know you all are anxious to go to the hospital—"

"Then can we?" she said, cutting across his words.

Vance was as anxious to find out the condition of his agent as they were, and Gibbs wasn't exactly the best point person to keep everyone informed. When he looked at their expressions, he saw three very anguished and very tired faces. There were other agents who could work this case. "Go on, get out of here, but McGee, you call me with an update."

Abby snatched up the phone and dialed, "Ducky! We're leaving for the hospital. Director Vance gave us the thumbs up!" She waited another second before hanging up, "He says he'll go with Jimmy. Let's go!" She looked around and realized she was alone except Director Vance was staring at her, offering a sort of lopsided grin.

"C'mon, Abby!" came McGee's voice. He and Ziva were already in the elevator holding the door.

Vance looked around, stopping when he came to DiNozzo's desk. Did Waters have something to do with the Black program? How was the SECNAV going to take this new development? He didn't have answers, but he knew one thing for sure: he'd better have something before the Secretary of the Navy called.


	5. Chapter 9 and 10

Chapter 9: Waiting

Ziva, Abby and Tim walked into the surgical waiting room. Gibbs was staring out the window onto the rooftop of the hospital. Not much of a view, but he wasn't seeing it anyways. "Gibbs!" Abby said, shuffling over to him. "How's Tony?"

"He's in surgery."

"Is he okay?"

Gibbs looked at her a beat before responding, "I don't know, Abs. He's in surgery. He went in just after we got here and he's been there ever since."

Abby didn't know what to say to that. She turned slowly around and found a chair and sat down. She was always so easy to read, and right now, she was scared. Remembering the paleness of his skin, the blood soaked shirts, and the distance in his eyes made her nauseous. For the first time, she was having doubts that Tony would be able to pull through.

Gibbs looked at his other agents and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Director Vance sent us," Ziva answered. "I think he's going to assign another team to investigate." Ziva looked at Gibbs and wished she had thought to bring him another shirt. His was soiled with blood and sweat.

McGee updated him, "His name was John Waters, Jr., Boss, oldest son of Admiral John D. Waters. As of now, there isn't an obvious reason for what he did. His parents couldn't offer an explanation over the phone, but they're pretty torn up about it. Maybe they'll have something for us in person."

Ziva continued, "Waters has never held a steady job and there was no note or anything on his body that would suggest a motive. We ran his banking records and found nothing to suggest debt or criminal activity."

Gibbs nodded his head, listening but not thinking too hard about it. What he was thinking about was Tony and how much blood he had lost and how pale he had looked prior to being rolled into the O.R. It was going to be a long afternoon, and perhaps evening. He wanted to rest his mind, sand some wood or whittle a design, but he couldn't leave. Franks had never left him, and he would never leave DiNozzo. Mike… Jenny… Kate. He'd lost too many people at this game and he wasn't willing to lose any more; maybe it was time to walk away.

"…Jethro? Are you okay?"

"Yeah…Ducky, yeah. I'm fine, just thinking about something I haven't thought about in a long time."

Dr. Mallard nodded, like he knew, and then added, "We would have been here sooner but Mr. Palmer got us lost again. And, if you can believe this, we got lost right here in the parking lot."

Jimmy added, "This is not an easy place to maneuver, Dr. Mallard. If you get on the wrong road, you can't get off until you've circled the entire hospital."

Ducky faced Gibbs and asked, "How is he?"

Gibbs shrugged, "I don't know. They took him into surgery shortly after we got here."

"Maybe I can find out something." He walked down the hallway and spoke to a nurse at the station. He returned a few minutes later, saying, "She called into the operating room and told them we were waiting for an update. There will be a doctor coming out any time now to give us one."

Abby asked, "Is that normal, Ducky? Can they do that, just leave an operation?"

"It's not that unusual, and it depends on the circumstances. In this case, the patient is a federal agent, with an entire agency waiting to hear about his condition. So it's not unusual for one of the doctors to come out during a lengthy surgery to offer an update. It makes waiting a whole lot more tolerable."

"Dr. Mallard?"

Ducky turned to see a man dressed in familiar green scrubs, "Yes, I'm Dr. Mallard."

"You were inquiring about the gunshot patient?"

"Yes."

Ever so aware of the new privacy laws, he suspiciously eyed the others in the room, "Are any of them family?"

"We're all federal agents at NCIS," Gibbs replied, "you can talk freely in front of us."

"Very well. I'm Dr. Larson, one of three doctors assisting with the operation. The patient has lost a lot of blood which is worrisome but not life threatening. However, the bullet entered the abdominal cavity and lodged itself above the stomach, between the liver and the right lung. Being a doctor, I'm sure you know what that means."

"Yes," Ducky replied, quietly, "I do."

Ziva waited for an explanation, but when one wasn't forthcoming, she asked, "What does that mean?"

"It means he's critical," the doctor responded. "He can go either way, but I assure you ma'am, I've never lost a patient on the table and I don't intend to start today. We have the best team working on him and he is young and strong, and appears in relatively good health."

"Relatively good health? Why do you say that?" Gibbs asked.

"We are having a problem regulating his oxygen."

"You should know that he's had the plague, the pneumonic plague, about seven years ago," Ducky explained.

The doctor furrowed his brow, "The plague? How'd he get that?"

"Long story, but it left his lungs a mess."

"That's good to know. We can adjust the oxygen levels, slow it down so his lungs have a chance to absorb it better. Well, I have to be returning. Hopefully, I won't have to make another trip out here until it's over, but it depends on how it progresses."

"Thank you, Doctor," Ducky said. The surgeon retreated behind the double doors. Jimmy looked at his mentor, and it was his despondent expression that made him decide to tell the others what he and his young colleague already knew, "It also means that the surgery is going to be particularly long. We have a lengthy wait in front of us."

Chapter 10: SECNAV

"Can I see him?" Gibbs asked.

Dr. Larson shrugged, "He's is intensive care—"

"I know, but can I see him?"

The doctor scratched his ear, weighing the request.

Two men entered the waiting room. Each man was wearing the unofficial black suit associated with security detail, but the confirming clue was the wire coming from their ear to a transmitter that was clipped neatly to their waistband. Gibbs and his team immediately recognized them for what they were, security detail for some high ranking official. What they didn't expect to see was the newly appointed Secretary of the Navy entering the room with the top hospital administrator and several more security personnel.

"Dr. Larson," the Administrator called over, "can we speak with you a moment?"

"Excuse me, Agent Gibbs."

From across the room, Gibbs watched intently as the men spoke and although he couldn't hear the conversation, it was evident who they were talking about. McGee whispered, "Isn't that the new SECNAV, Clayton Jarvis?"

"Yep."

"What's he doing here?"

Gibbs answered, "There's only one reason to be at this hospital at this time."

McGee and Ziva exchanged a suspicious glance. "You think he's here to see Tony?" Ziva asked.

Gibbs tilted his head from side to side and watched as the doctor, Administrator, and the Secretary of the Navy along with his security detail disappeared behind the door leading to intensive care. Annoyed, Gibbs answered her question, "What do you think?"

"But why?"

Gibbs knew why, but he wasn't about to wait outside in a waiting room while a virtual stranger went to Tony's bedside. "Stay here." He walked with purpose as he pushed through the same double doors that the SECNAV has pushed through just seconds earlier.

Gibbs caught up to them in time to hear Jarvis give an order, "I want a man on this door until Agent DiNozzo is discharged. Until we find out who the shooter is, I don't want to take any chances."

"What kind of chances?"

Jarvis turned abruptly and came face to face with Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He had heard of the legendary agent and had even been warned about him. But now was not the time to get in a pissin' match with anyone. DiNozzo was part of his team and it was evident by the man's demeanor that it had been a very long and worry-filled day for him. Besides, having Gibbs on his side was far more palatable than having him against him. "Special Agent Gibbs, I'm sorry about your team member."

"So am I. Isn't it unusual for a man of your position to be taking time to visit a field agent?"

"It's a new day, Gibbs, and a new regime. I do things differently from my predecessor."

"So it would seem. Why the interest in Special Agent DiNozzo?"

Jarvis wasn't accustomed to such a pointed conversation, but prepared nonetheless. "What happened to your agent is big news and I have a lot of questions to answer. I prefer to get my intel first hand."

Gibbs didn't buy it for a second. Regardless of the lip service he was being fed, he was interested in seeing Tony. Looking through the glass, he saw his senior field agent lying flat in the bed with his mid section heavily bandaged. He was attached to several monitors and three nurses were in the room, two monitoring machines and one adjusting the many tubes which seemed to be emanating from his body. Forgetting his conversation with the Secretary of the Navy, Gibbs slid the door open and walked in. The nurses didn't seem to care. The sounds in the room weren't loud, but they were grating. Beeps and hisses. It took a minute before he realized that Tony wasn't breathing on his own. He looked once more at all the apparatuses before he forced himself to look directly at his agent.

Tony didn't look too bad. He had color and he had expression, if that were possible. "Tony, I don't know if you can hear me, but the doctor said the surgery went well. Now it's up to you to do the rest. I'll be back later to check on you."

By the time Gibbs left, so too had Jarvis, but there was a man seated outside Tony's door. He was surprisingly okay with the added security. Whatever Jarvis was up to, he at least proved that he is interested in Tony's well-being, and the more people looking out for the wise-cracking agent, the easier it made his job. Better to have too many people worried about you than not enough.

Suddenly things seemed okay.


	6. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: To Be, Or Not To Be

Tony swung his legs over the side of the bed. He wasn't going to spend one more day in this white-washed hospital. The nurses were nice, but a little too old for his tastes, and the doctors were knowledgeable, but visits were few and none of them had seen a movie in this decade. He was bored and he wanted to get back to work. He had to get back to work. Secretary Jarvis had spoken to him already and reassured him about the mission and assured him the shooter was in no way related to his assignment. He only had partial recollection of his bedside meeting with the SECNAV, but he did remember some of his spiel. Aside from his superior investigative talents, Jarvis had reiterated (using almost the exact same words from their first meeting), Tony was the logical choice to handle this suspect. Beside, once read-in on an op, especially one as highly sensitive as the Black Program, there's no chance of changing your mind. After all, one can't very well forget what they've just been told, so being pulled at this juncture was off the table.

Tony looked across the room at the window, remembering something Gibbs had said when his partner was killed. The best way to protect someone is to do your job. The best way for me to protect my colleague is to do what I've been asked to do. When this is all over, I may lose a friend, but my motivation will have always been to clear this person.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Tony looked up to see Ziva standing in the doorway. "I'm leaving. You want to get my pants?"

Ziva weighed the request, then walked to the closet and looked for his clothes. "Sorry, there are no pants here."

Tony didn't figure on not having any clothes but if he had thought about it, he might have deduced that Gibbs would suspect he'd try to leave early and therefore take them. "How 'bout yours?"

"They won't fit you. I suggest you turn around and lie back down until the doctor dismisses you." Rather than waiting for him to make up his mind, she simply bent down and lifted his legs and gently swung them back up on the bed. She reached across her partner and pulled the sheet over him. As a final act of kindness, she lifted his head and repositioned his pillow. "There, is that better?"

He smiled, genuinely appreciative of the effort. "So, what's it been like, just you and McGee?"

"And Gibbs," she added. "It's been…"

He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"…lonely."

"Lonely? I didn't expect that. I expected delightful, quiet, productive…, but lonely?"

"Why not? Your absence in the office is noticed, and not just by us. Other agents have stopped by inquiring as to when you are expected back."

"What about Gibbs?"

She smiled, having learned a long time ago what Tony means to her boss, "Even Gibbs misses you. He hasn't head slapped anyone since you were shot. Not even close. And I see him staring at your empty chair."

"Are we interrupting anything?" McGee said from the door.

Ziva smiled and waved him in, "No, not at all. Did you bring it?"

"Bring what," Tony asked.

"You'll see."

McGee, Abby and Palmer entered his hospital room. Abby looked pregnant until she pulled a bag of Chinese food from under her black cape and set it on the tray. McGee opened his brief case and removed a laptop computer with a large HD plasma monitor. And Jimmy opened up a bag and displayed an array of DVDs.

"What's this?" Tony asked.

"It's movie night at Tony's!" Abby answered.

Ziva pushed another chair into the room and said, "Like I said, we've been feeling rather lonely without you around to regale us with your movie trivia. So one day, we got to talking and we realized that some of us have never seen half of the movies that you've talked about."

Abby continued, "We tried to remember the titles of them but we soon realized that you've seen an awful lot of movies."

"So we brainstormed all the different ones that we could remember and we each came up with a list that we wouldn't mind seeing, based on your comments," McGee said.

Palmer laid four DVD's in front of Tony and said, "Here's our selection."

"Personally," McGee said while plugging in his laptop, "I want to see the movie with the quote, _'Not only are you wrong, but you're wrong at the top of your voice.'_ Do you remember when you said that to Saleem? That was a great line, Tony."

"And I want to see Fatal Attraction," Ziva shared. "You mentioned that movie after you created that Level 5 sorceress for McGee. Remember?"

"How could I forget?" Tony said. "He milked it for all it was worth for a solid two weeks before I found out he knew all along." Tony smiled at the memory and felt his muscles begin to relax. It had been a long time since he felt so totally comfortable. If nothing else, this would take his mind off the one thought that was constantly nagging at him. The only thing that could make this moment better was if the Secretary of the Navy called and pulled the plug on his little operation. Of course, if the pain in his stomach would subside, that would also help to make this moment better.

"I can only find three chairs," Ziva said.

"I'll stand," Palmer said, "I'm used to it."

Ziva had a thought and looked at Tony. Smiling coyly, she said, "Do you mind if I join you? It will not be the first time that you and I have shared a bed, and I'd hate to see Palmer standing during the entire movie."

He smiled back at her and stretched his arm out. While she crawled onto his bed and snuggled next to him, Palmer turned off the light and McGee adjusted the screen for optimal viewing.

Tony wrapped his arm around Ziva's shoulder and looked around. It was going to be a tough year, but he was prepared for it. With friends like these, he felt like he could face anything. By the time he was through with the SECNAV's directive, he was going to need friends like these.

"By the way, Tony, we took turns and finished your report," McGee said.

~Fini


End file.
